He's Just A Child
by Anime Girl23
Summary: Secret Life Of The American Teenager/Firefly crossover. Ricky Underwood's life is a secret in and of itself, but the truth has no choice but to come out when his two worlds collide. Eventual Ricky/Amy with references to other pairings, both canon and OCs.
1. Chapter 1

Woo! I got this fic finished and ready to post before the new episodes of Secret Life started! All right, so this is a crossover with Firefly (duh) and I know it sounds a bit insane, but give it a chance! This fic is completed on my laptop and I'm hoping to post every few days. Enjoy! And let me know what you think!

Disclaimer: I don't own either Firefly nor SLOTAT. Wish I did, but I don't.

**Story Setting:** This takes place after Be My, Be My Baby (2x12), but before the new episodes (airing January 4) for The Secret Life Of The American Teenager and pre-series/post-Serenity (1x01) for Firefly.

**Spoilers:** The name of Ricky's mother (as we've learned in sides, available on the SLOTAT Spoiler board on FanForum) and the name of Ben's Italian girlfriend. No spoilers for Firefly.

He's Just A Child  
Chapter One

He'd woken up on the ground, head pounding and bleeding from a cut on his forehead. Nothing around him looked right. Buildings were made of too much concrete and not enough metal, there was barely an aircraft in the sky. There were blue skies above him that he knew weren't his. He didn't know this place.

He went without food for days, wandering streets made of a mixture he only vaguely remembered from his studies. He drank water from tiny public spouts that couldn't be sanitary.

He wanted to go home, wanted to go back to the place he recognized and not wander roads made of strange concoctions.

It was on his fifth day that he collapsed on a sea of dead grass, legs too weak to hold him up any longer. He'd struggled for breath as he lay face down, but couldn't find the strength to move and let the darkness take him. He dreamed of home.

_"Bob, there's a kid on the lawn!"_

Those were the first words he'd heard as the mental images of his bed and clean clothes disappeared. He almost cried as they did and he found himself looking at a woman that reminded him much too much of his own mother. She was sickeningly thin, stringy hair hanging in front of her pale face. There was a bruise purpling her left eye, almost swelling it shut. Her good eye was no better, an almost healed bruise surrounding hazel eyes that didn't have enough pupil. She looked the same as his mother had the day she walked out without an intention to return. He'd never known his father.

He'd laid there, still too weak to move as a man stumbled from the depressing-looking house. What little muscle he had did nothing to hide the shaking that overtook his body or the wild red eyes that fell on him. The man kicked his arm, barking at him to tell him his name.

"Ricky," he'd groaned as the pain radiated up his arm.

Bob and Nora Underwood had taken him in then. Ricky had taken it as a blessing at first, two people in bad conditions taking in a lost boy. He was only twelve, but looked younger than his years. He'd never been a fan of it himself, but others had enjoyed it.

Apparently so did Bob.

The first time it happened, he'd been jolted from his sleep with a hand over his mouth and lips on his neck.

_"Keep quiet, boy. Gotta earn your keep."_

He could have left, could have run away, but where would he run? He didn't know this place. He didn't belong in 2004 Los Angeles, he belonged in 2511 Ariel.

So he stayed, stayed in that dingy little room, laid there every night while Bob touched him all over his gorram body. He closed his eyes and dreamed of home with his things and his treasures, tried to ignore the touches that echoed of the past and predicted his future.

He'd never asked how he came to be Ricky Underwood, never cared to. He was provided with a home, food, and an education. It didn't matter just how the documentation came to be.

He was quiet every time Bob came into his room, laid there and let it happen, never fighting, too afraid of being turned to the streets. So he just lay there, feeling dirty and used as he tried to pull images of home. As weeks turned into months, the images began to fade. He whispered to himself, phrases and words, but time went on and he lost practice, because this wasn't home and people here very rarely understood what you said when you slipped into Chinese mid-sentence. He began to lose himself and as months turned into years, wanting home became less important and wanting death became a constant thought.

He hated himself, hated the degrading feeling this brought him. He didn't feel degraded in Ariel.

It had been an accident. He hadn't been fed up, he'd just let his anger get the better of him when Mr. Hunter asked for the fifth time that day if everything was okay at home.

_"Of course everything's okay! I'm just being used as a whore."_

He'd meant for it to sound sarcastic, but it came out more biting and self-loathing than anything. Mr. Hunter hadn't believed him when he said he wasn't serious and called the principal and school nurse within minutes.

Nora was gone when the cops arrived at the house to arrest Bob. He never bothered to tell them that she'd been gone for weeks.

He was fourteen and shaking in an empty office when his social worker walked in and introduced herself as Margret. She took him in and suddenly his body was his own. He was in control again and it felt good.

His life spiraled out of control again when he found out that Amy Juergens was pregnant. Barely sixteen and centuries away from his own time and he was destined to be a father before his grandparents were even born. He'd spent that first night in his room, laughing at the absurdness of it all.

He watched Amy get bigger and bigger, let his mind entertain every possible scenario until it came to the point where he would stay up all night without a wink of sleep. Margret believed he could be a father at sixteen and as much as he wanted to believe like she did, he found it hard. He wasn't from here, he didn't even know _how_ he got here and now he was going to have a family.

He still wanted to go home, always did. God only knows how many nights he spent, staring up at the ceiling as his mind tried to pull memories—now fuzzy—of the streets and buildings. He loved it when he could pick a clear memory from his mind, would smile that whole morning and speak with a touch of his Western grammar. Margret would never question it, no, she'd just smile back at him, happy.

She could never know the truth, he knew. She cared for him—maybe even loved him—but she'd never take him seriously. She'd never believe him if he told her that he was from hundreds of years in the future, long after Earth had been used up. She'd never understand how cultures meshed and new planets were formed. She'd never approve of who he'd been when he lived there.

So he kept quiet. He fell into this image of what he thought he was supposed to be. He fell back onto sex, giving in to human urges to try and erase the homesickness and memory of Bob's hands.

And for all the misgivings and words that were said, he didn't regret that mistaken night that brought him John. He had a child, his flesh and blood that was born so many years before he himself was meant to be. Life was harder now that he had to support someone else. He had a baby and he had Amy. Well…he didn't _have_ Amy. He had her in his life, but she wasn't his. A part of him doubted she would ever be.

He hadn't lied when he told Mr. Juergens that he loved her. At least he was pretty sure he hadn't. But he had lied when he said there was no heat. There was heat, tons of it, but it mostly only came out when they were fighting, when Amy would let her emotions flare and he could swear he saw that same spark he'd seen back at band camp.

He knew it wasn't fair to Adrian. She loved him. God, he knew she loved him and he loved her. He just wasn't _in_ love with her, no matter how much he wished he was. They had amazing chemistry and she was gorgeous, he knew that, but he didn't want to marry her. He loved sex with her, loved how it made the demons in his head go away, but he didn't want to marry her. He sort of doubted he'd ever marry anyone. How was he supposed to without that bond starting with a lie? He could never tell a person about who he was or where he was from. No, those were parts of himself that he could never reveal, that he'd take to the grave.

Ricky sighed, bouncing John on his hip as he began to fuss. He smiled softly at Amy, mouthing a _thank you_ as she handed him John's teething ring. Eight months old and John's teeth were almost completely through. He couldn't be happier to see the end of this. Seeing John in pain like this was just…

Amy watched him from where she sat on her bed, dressed in her pajamas. She'd called him sometime around two in the morning, on her last thread as she tried to keep John calm. She couldn't put him back in the nursery if he was only going to cry all night, not with Robbie in there too. She looked tired, both from taking care of John, her and Ben's recent break-up, and today's sighting of Ben and Maria.

"Sh, come on, little fella," Ricky soothed, running his hand up and down John's back as he bounced. "I'll take him into the hallway. You need to sleep."

"So do you," Amy yawned and shook her head, "I'm fine."

"You're about to drop."

"Says the guy with trash bags under his eyes. Adrian isn't waiting for you?"

Ricky shook his head. "Not anymore. I told her I couldn't keep doing it."

"Couldn't keep having sex?"

"Couldn't keep leading her on. She wants someone she can marry one day and that isn't me."

Amy nodded and Ricky was fairly sure neither of them knew what she was nodding at, but they were too tired to figure it out. She kept sitting on her bed, shaking herself each time her mind began to slip into slumber and ignoring him every time he told her to just go to bed. That went on for another two hours before they heard Robbie begin to cry, waking up his own parents as John finally settled down. The sigh of relief seemed to almost echo off the walls and Ricky forced back a chuckle in fear of waking his son as Amy fell sideways and collapsed onto the pillows.

"I'll put him down," he whispered, grateful that Amy didn't argue as she curled back under the covers, "I'll see you at school."

"Mm," Amy murmured, "school."

"Night, you two," he whispered, casting a glance at Ashley's sleeping form in her own bed. Lucky girl. Dead to the world.

John began to stir as he set him in his crib and Ricky froze, breath stilled as he waited to see if his son let out that almighty wail. He swallowed back the sigh as John fell silent yet again and tiptoed from the room. He paused at the doorway, feeling a pull towards this little child and for a minute, considered sleeping in the rocking chair like he had during half of his summer vacation. He shook his head at the last moment and turned, closing the door behind him and venturing down the stairs and through the kitchen. The smile he sent at Anne was a tired one, waving slightly as he yawned.

"Ricky, the couch-"

"I'm all right, Mrs. Juergens," Ricky assured her, "Thanks though. Another day of this and I may take you up on the offer." He smiled as much as he could muster.

"You're sure you're okay to drive?" she asked and Ricky almost laughed, still so unused to people fussing over him this much.

"I walked; figured the cool air would do me some good." He held up the stark white jacket that he'd grabbed instead of his usual black or gray. "Cars will see me fine."

"Just be careful."

"Scout's honor."

"Were you ever a Scout?"

"Would it be more comforting if I said yes?"

Anne laughed. "Good night, Ricky."

"Night," he returned, "See you in…" he checked the clock, "three hours."

The night air was cool as he walked, breathing in the autumn breeze as dead leaves crunched beneath his feet. Another yawn escaped him and he paused in the middle of the sidewalk, shaking his head as sleep tried to take him. He was still another five minutes from his apartment. Five more minutes and he could be in bed for just a little while. He slapped his cheeks, blinking hard, and stepped forward. He made it three steps before he stumbled, vertigo hitting hard and then he was falling…

Falling…

And darkness.

---

He woke up on the ground, head pounding and bleeding from a familiar cut on his forehead. Nothing around him looked right. Buildings were made of too much metal and not enough concrete, there were too many aircrafts in the sky. There were blue skies above him that weren't the ones he'd grown used to. He knew this place.

"This…isn't possible," Ricky breathed, jaw slack as he circled, eyes trying frantically to take in everything around him. "I can't be…oh, God."

It couldn't have happened, not again. That just…but it had.

Gone were the dark streets and the butcher shop he'd seen on the horizon.

In front of him was Persephone.

TBC

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	2. Chapter 2

All right! Here's the next chapter for all of you (as few as there may be). As always, reviews are love (and crack). Enjoy!

Disclaimer: Neither SLOTAT nor Firefly belong to me. I'm not making any profits off of this story.

**Note:** All Chinese translations for this story have been found at Millways Mandarin and Firefly Chinese Translations. Translations for the Chinese used in each chapter will be at the bottom of the chapter.

**To People Unfamiliar To Firefly:** This was written so that people unfamiliar could understand. For information on the show, a good site to look at is the .

He's Just A Child  
Chapter Two

John waddled over to Amy's nightstand, his tiny palm slapping against the wood as he smiled up at his mother. "Dada."

"Yeah, that's Dada," Amy said, picking up her son. She sat on her bed, John in her lap, and reached over to snag the picture frame. Ricky's frozen face stared back at her, smiling as he held a much younger John in his arms.

John slapped his hand over Ricky's face, smiling wide as he looked at Amy. "Dada," he said before moving his hand to cover his younger self, "John."

Amy smiled at her son, eyes straying to the finger smudged frame. It had been a year since she'd seen Ricky, a year since anyone had. She could barely remember him being there that night, she had been so tired. Her mother said Ricky was walking home that night, said he'd turned down her offer of the couch.

There had been so much talk when he first disappeared. Some had said he was kidnapped, but nothing had ever come out of it. Police went over Ricky's route home with a fine tooth comb and nothing. No blood, no signs of a struggle, nothing.

Eventually everyone seemed to decide that Ricky had walked out. Walked away from her, from their son. Their circle had stayed strong, telling everyone that Ricky wouldn't just leave, but as the months kept going, even they had begun to believe it. Ashley was the only one besides her that refused to think he would.

"Mama, Dada?" John asked, eyes wide and questioning like they every day when he would make his way over to the picture. _Where's Daddy?_

Amy kissed the top of his head. "I don't know, baby," she said as always, "but I do know that wherever he is, he's missing you."

"Mi' me," John nodded, "Mi' Mama too."

Tears pricked her eyes and she hid her face in his hair.

One year.

Three hundred and sixty-five days that Ricky hadn't seen his son, hadn't seen him learn to walk. John had only just been learning to crawl when he disappeared. He'd missed so much. She'd taken a million and one pictures, made videos on her camera, and kept journals of his development, but she knew it would never be the same. Some things you need to witness first hand. But she kept them with her anyway, album and journals in the big purse she carried, camera fully charged, in a hope that maybe she'd see him on the street one day. She never saw him, though, just went back home and crossed off another day on the calendar.

"Amy," Ashley said, sticking her head in, "we're going to be late. You've got that test in History."

Amy nodded, placing the picture frame back on her table. She stood, John hoisted on her hip. "Coming."

---

Ricky groaned, rolling over onto his stomach. He buried his face into the pillows, trying to will himself to fall back asleep, and groaned again when he realized that it wasn't going to happen. He pushed himself up, arching his back in as he stretched for a moment, the blankets falling around him. The floor was cold despite the rug and he reached for his robe, pulling it around him as he walked towards the bathroom.

He splashed a handful of water on his face, running wet hands through his hair in an attempt to put down the messy curls. One held strong, standing almost straight up, and he glared at it, cupping more water in between his hands as he tried to force it down. It refused to quit and Ricky sighed, grabbing a towel to dry his hair.

"Whatever," he muttered, "Doesn't matter anyway."

He dressed, pulling on a pair of form fitting black pants and a loose, tan button-up. He left the top three buttons of the shirt open as he pulled on his boots. Tugging the knot tight, he stood, surveying himself in the mirror for a second before nodding his acceptance.

Ricky was halfway to the door when he paused and reached his hand into his bag, digging past the clothes until he found it.

His wallet. Save for a new scratch or two marring the leather, it was the same as it had been when he woke up and realized he'd returned to Persephone. Brown leather, holding twelve dollars and fifty-two cents, his license, school ID, and…the only picture he had of John.

John had only been 4 months old when the photo had been taken, cradled in Amy's arms as they captured the moment. John was smiling, Amy was smiling, Ricky remembered that he had been.

That was all he had now; memories. He had to wake up here every morning with the knowledge that he wouldn't be going right over to Amy's to see John. He had to go through his days knowing that he probably wouldn't ever see them again. He didn't even have a way of knowing how long he'd been gone there, if time ran the same way.

Ricky laughed bitterly to himself. He didn't even know if the two places were different dimensions or if his birthplace was the future. It seemed pretty dismal if it was. The Earth That Was had lost its last inhabitants long ago, centuries back when the planet had been completely used up and new planets were terra-formed. People moved to the new planets and Earth That Was…it was forgotten, a piece of history. No one cared anymore, didn't care that Earth That Was, if this was the future, had been where his son lived and grew up…without his father.

Ricky shut his eyes, cursing at himself. He shouldn't have looked. His son was five hundred and nine years in the past. John had lived his life…and Ricky had to, too. He had no idea how he'd gotten there in the first place or how he'd been brought back. He was never going home to his family, he had to accept that. Ariel was home now…again and he had to get used to it.

He returned the wallet to the bag without looking, knowing that if he did, he'd stare at the image for ages. He didn't reopen his eyes until the bag was shut and he'd turned his head away, gaze automatically falling on the window. Outside was Ariel, year 2517.

It had been hard when he realized he'd been sent back. He'd had to readjust to the life here, the aircrafts, the crime, the Alliance. The only thing that came back naturally was the language, really. It had been like riding a bike as he slipped into Chinese mid-sentence and found himself saying _ain't _more than he had in years. It felt good.

For years, he'd dreamt of coming back here, of being someone who was respected in a place he recognized. He'd never thought of just how much he'd miss California. The sun shined differently there, air smelled different. California had his family. The second he'd realized that he'd been torn away from the only people that actually gave a crap, he'd cried. He knew he'd never see them again.

Ricky glared out the window, hating Ariel in that moment, just as he had since he'd arrived from Persephone. He'd made a life in California and now he was back doing what he'd always done. It hadn't been hard to get his old job back, even six years later. He'd been young, but he'd needed that job when his mom disappeared. Ten years-old and on his own. The Alliance didn't care, there were no foster systems here, there weren't people like Margret and Sanjay. He had to support himself and he did. End of story.

The clock tolled nine and he shook his head, grabbing his jacket and bag as he left his room.

He hated Ariel.

There was no reason to stay.

---

Ricky made it back to Persephone without much trouble. From there, it was venturing over to the Eavesdown Docks, ready to stroll around in search of a ship. Find a ship, pay the wage and travel for as long as they'd have him…or for however long his money lasted. Long ago, Ariel had been his home, but it wasn't anymore. He didn't know where he belonged and a ship going God-knows-where was really the only option.

Or he could always blow his brains out, but that tended to get a bit messy.

He walked for hours, but none of the ships seemed right. Too flashy, too small, that one's captain smelled like rotten eggs.

"Where ya goin'?"

Ricky turned around at the voice, eyes falling on a girl, brown hair done up in two buns. There was grease on her face, little smudges, but she smiled at him despite the mess, eyes shining bright as she did. She as reclining in an old beach chair, paper umbrella spinning with practiced ease. He guessed it wasn't her first time finding passengers.

He shrugged, adjusting the bag's strap on his shoulder. "Dunno."

"Then you're at the right ship," she said, standing, umbrella still resting on her shoulder. She pointed behind her, gesturing to the chrome ship. Big, old, Ricky hadn't even realized there were still Firefly models flying. "This here's Serenity. She'll take you most anywhere if you got the money." She paused, looking nervous for a second. "You do got money, right?" He nodded and she blushed, laughing softly. "Course you do. Dressed fine in good clothes."

"Well dressed man like that don't belong on that piece of _fei oo_," said the man from the next ship. The happy girl glared at him and he shrugged, turning away.

"Don't listen to him," she said, waving off the stranger, "She don't look impressive, but there's more to her than shiny metal. It's the engine that keeps her goin'."

Ricky nodded. "And you keep her goin'. Mechanic?"

"Best there is." Happy girl blushed at the compliment as another man joined them. He stood almost a foot taller than Ricky, wearing tan pants and a red shirt. The brown coat was long and it took Ricky only a second to recognize it as a symbol of the Independence. The war between them and the Alliance had still been going on when he was whisked away. He'd heard of the Battle at Serenity Valley, of how many died. He'd been gone barely a week before the battle started. It had marked the end of the war for the Independence. The man in front of him stood tall, proud, if not a little arrogant. He had no doubt this man was the ship's captain.

Ricky straightened his back, not willing to look weak in front of the man that could easily deny him passage. He wanted passage on this ship. He didn't shrink back as the captain looked at him.

"Destination?" the captain asked.

"Anywhere." Ricky reached into his jacket's pocket, pulling out a small purse. Not all of his money, just what he was willing to pay to get on. He kept the rest of his supplies in his bag. "What's the wage?"

"Who says I'm lettin' you on?"

"You are," Ricky said, confident.

"What's your name, kid?"

"Ricky."

"Got a last name?"

"Not one that holds any meaning."

He turned to happy girl. "This the only one we got?" he asked, gesturing to Ricky.

"Looks like."

The captain looked at him for another minute before snatching the entire purse from his hand. "Captain Mal Reynolds. Kaylee'll show you to your room. Leaving in fifteen, so be on board or get left behind. Cause any trouble, you're out the hatch." He left after that, back into his ship, and Ricky blinked.

Kaylee smiled, shaking her head at her captain. "Welcome to Serenity."

---

Ricky didn't meet any of the other crew until dinner. It wasn't an impressive meal, but it was food and he'd never cared for the fancy stuff as it was. What he had in front of him was one big table, surrounded by a…seriously dysfunctional family.

He stayed quiet for the most part, listening to the people around him and trying for the life of him to get an idea of what they were like.

Mal Reynolds, Ricky could already tell, didn't trust easily. He was the captain, their lives depended on him. It was a lot of weight, but even though Ricky could see the stress lines on his face and in the stormy blue eyes. Even with that, though, Mal still seemed to have this balance between serious and fun.

Zoë was his second-in-command, strong both in body and in mind. She seemed the most sensible one of the group, keeping even Mal in line when he seemed to need it as she'd send a look with somewhat deadly brown eyes as her hair framed the cocoa complexion of her face. Ricky suspected that she had fought in the war with Mal. He didn't think Mal seemed the man to give a second-in-command position to anyone that couldn't handle it. He wondered for a moment if they were together until Zoë leaned over to kiss Wash…who up until that moment had been tinkering with his dinosaur toys.

Oh, wow.

Ricky was a bit unsure about Wash. He seemed fun, but to depend on a guy to pilot a ship when he's playing with dinosaurs and using weird little voices. He'd made a polite inquiry about what it was like to pilot a Firefly and the enthusiastic answer—full of words he couldn't hope to understand—at least reassured him that nutty or not, he knew what he was doing. He looked like a kid with the blonde hair and big blue eyes, but Ricky was pretty sure Zoë wouldn't marry an idiot, so he figured they were safe.

Well…as safe as they could be. Jayne made him nervous from the second he sauntered into the room with his knives. He looked a bit like a soldier, brown hair cut short and blue eyes shining, just looking for trouble. He'd sat there, cleaning them for the last hour as he ate. It only took that first look to see he was the muscle of the group. He'd looked at Ricky for all of a second before making a comment about taking kids on board.

_"I'm eighteen."_

_"Like I said. Kid."_

Kaylee had jumped to his defense, saying that she hadn't been much older than him when she came on the ship. Ricky had a feeling he was going to like her. She just had that thing about her that he liked. He wasn't used to happy outlooks and…he had to face it, Kaylee never seemed to stop smiling. Anyone that made her…they were going to have some problems. That is, if he stayed on the ship. He wasn't exactly sure if he'd be allowed to stay. There was no way to know just yet if Mal was the type to take on permanent passengers that weren't on his crew.

He heard them mention another crew member, Inara if he remembered her name right, but she wasn't on board. Seemed like she rented out one of the shuttles. She'd come and go as she pleased.

"Wash, we on course to Paquin?" Mal asked, looking up from his dinner, chopsticks hanging from his mouth.

Wash nodded. "Be there in no less than a week."

"That's shiny," Kaylee said.

Yeah, Ricky decided that he liked Kaylee.

TBC

**Translations:**

- Fei oo: Junk

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	3. Chapter 3

Sorry this is a bit later than the last chapter. Time got away from me. Hope you like!

Disclaimer: I don't own either Secret Life of the American Teenager nor Firefly.

**Note:** This chapter is a high T, but not quite M, so be aware of that. Also, as in the last chapter, the Chinese has been found on the same sites (and will continue to be so throughout the story).

He's Just A Child  
Chapter Three

"Back to Persephone," Ricky sighed, hands holding tight onto the doorway as Serenity touched ground. As the ship settled, he checked his clothes one last time before shutting his door and meeting the others in the hanger.

"All right, gang. Same old," Mal said, "Get what you need and get back here. We lift off in four hours. You're not here, you're outta luck."

Everyone nodded and split off. Kaylee settled into her beach chair, umbrella in hand as River and Simon lingered in the doorway. Jayne ran off, eager to pick up some more weapons. He rushed past Mal, Inara, Zoë, and Wash as they headed out towards some of the shops, barely sparing Mal a wave as the captain shouted a reminder about the time.

"Plans for your few hours of freedom?" Book asked, coming up beside Ricky.

Ricky smiled at the Shepherd that had quickly been becoming somewhat of a grandfather figure in the two months since he, Simon, and River had taken residence on Serenity. "Gotta see a guy."

Book stared at him for a long moment and Ricky shifted, uncomfortable. He finally nodded and Ricky smiled once more before waving at the others and running off.

Even as a child, he'd never dreamed he'd be where he was now, on his own, travelling the galaxies with a group of people as they ran…less than legal jobs. It was incredible. He'd gone onto Serenity, hoping that maybe they'd let him stay on board and they had. He'd never been asked to stay, but when they reached Paquin, he went on a walk and came back, hung around for a bit, in sight of the ship. He'd thought they were going to leave without him for a moment until Mal shouted at him to get his ass on board. So he stayed. He didn't help with the jobs much. Stuck around in the engine room with Kaylee mostly, learning little bits about what made Serenity tick. He was just there, a bit invisible, but he didn't have a problem with that.

Some things he just didn't want the others to know.

He came to a stop in front of a small hotel and smiled at the man behind the front desk as he slid his identification card forward. "I expect the room is ready?"

The man nodded, eyeing him for a moment. "Of course."

He still thought about what he'd left in California every day. John was growing and he was missing it. It hurt, it hurt a lot.

Ricky shook his head as he left his shoes by the door of his room and left to prepare the tea. It wouldn't do to think about John now, not while he was working.

The knock on the door came twenty minutes later and he opened it, smiling warmly at the man before him. "General Durn, just on time. The tea's ready."

---

"No clients today?" Mal asked, following Inara into a shop after they'd separated from Zoë and Wash. She'd only just rejoined them since her last trip. "Did the last one tire you out?"

Inara cast him a glare, brown eyes telling him she didn't want to hear it. "Funny," she said, pulling the brown curls off her neck as she adjusted her shawl, "I chose not to accept the request. I wanted to speak to you about the new passengers."

"Fine. The Shepherd's there, don't mind him so long as he don't try to push no religion on me. Doctor's workin' on some meds for his sister, something to calm the crazy a bit. Government messed her head up good. Haven't been gettin' in much trouble. Don't expect that to last long."

"How optimistic. You have to admire him, though. He saved his little sister."

"And now they're fugitives," Mal added softly so no one else could hear.

Inara shook her head. "And Ricky?"

"Don't hear much a peep outta him." Mal shrugged. "He's there and don't cause a fuss." He looked at her, frowning. "Why? You notice somethin'?"

Inara shook her head. "I don't know. He just seems…I don't know. Familiar, maybe?"

Mal chuckled. "Bit young to be a client, ain't he?"

Inara glared at him again.

---

"You went missing for quite a while," General Durn noted as he took a final sip of his tea. He gazed at Ricky through hazel eyes. Salt and pepper hair dusted the stop of his balding head.

Ricky nodded. "Got a bit lost for a while."

"And found your way back, I see."

Ricky smiled at him, setting his own cup aside. "Bit unexpectedly, but yes."

General Durn grinned at him, yellowing teeth showing. "Now that the tea's outta the way, what do you say we get down to…business?"

"Of course." Ricky stood, shirt already unbuttoned as he let it slip off his shoulders. "If you'll follow me."

---

"Not gonna work," River mumbled, shaking her head as she retreated back into the ship, "Not gonna work. Gonna find out. Secret's gonna come out."

Simon frowned, following his younger sister into the hanger. "What secret, River?"

River shook her head, hard, brown curls flying as she looked at Simon with wide brown eyes. "Can't tell. Gotta prove I can keep a secret." She smiled at her brother. "Maybe then he'll play with me. No more hide and seek."

"Hide and seek?" Jayne echoed, walking back into the hanger. "What's she yammerin' about now? Not playing no kid games."

"He won't play," River said, looking sad, "Stays away from me. Far, far away. Doesn't like me. He knows I know. Know his secret."

Kaylee and Book glanced at each other, both completely lost.

"_Mei-mei_, who are you talking about?" Simon asked.

River shook her head, raising a finger to her lips. "Shh. Family's coming back. Gonna make a splash."

---

Ricky sighed, eyes shut as lips trailed down his back.

"Beautiful," General Durn breathed, fingers trailing across Ricky's bare skin. He turned Ricky's head and kissed him once as his hand found its destination. "Turn over. I want to see your face."

---

"What the-" Wash shouted as a flash of light erupted in front of him Zoë. He jumped back, banging into his wife, and scrambled for a moment before he straightened his back.

"Very brave."

"Thanks, honey."

Zoë shook her head at her husband and returned her gaze to the sight in front of them as the light faded away. A young girl, no older than seventeen lay unconscious in front of her and her husband. She paused as she surveyed the girl, eyes widening as she finally saw the infant on the ground. She exhaled softly, bending to pick him up as he began to wake and fuss. "Sh," she soothed, "it's alright."

"Zoë, what-"

"I don't know."

---

"Your payment," General Durn said, holding out the money.

Ricky plastered on another smile as he took it, putting it into his pocket. "It was a pleasure."

"Quite."

---

"He's been avoiding me," Inara said, "Since you told him I'm a Companion, he won't stay in the same room as me."

Mal shrugged. "Maybe he just don't like whores."

Inara slapped his arm. "What have I told you about calling me-"

"What?" Mal asked when she stopped speaking.

"Nothing. Forget it," she said, knowing she should be getting Mal out of there, but unable to tear her eyes away. She tried to remind herself that Mal shouldn't see this, but…oh, God. She shook her head, pulling at Mal's arm. "Let's go."

"What are you," Mal started, pulling his arm free and looking around, "What are you trying to…"

Oh, God. He saw.

"Mal, let's go."

"_Jien tah-duh gway__!_"

And then he was gone, storming through crowds as he honed in on his target. He ignored Inara shouting after him. It didn't matter. What mattered was the sight in front of him.

"_Hwoon dahn_," he cursed, grabbing General Durn by the collar and shoving him into the outer wall of the hotel. "What the fuck do you think you're doin'?"

"Captain, what-"

Mal glared at Ricky. "Oh, not just yet. I have a few choice words for you, but first him."

Ricky sputtered at him for a moment, lost for words. It took him a minute to straighten his back and glare right back at Mal. "Captain, I don't know what you think you're doing, but get your hands off my associate," he said, deadly calm. Three sets of eyes turned on him, but he didn't back down, waiting until Mal had loosened his grip on the General enough to free him. "General, you have my apologies."

General Durn huffed, straightening his jacket. "Accepted, so long as he doesn't accompany you next time."

"There won't be a-"

"You have my word," Ricky said, glaring at Mal. He watched the General walk away and the second he was out of sight, his shoulders slumped and he suddenly looked nervous. "Captain…"

Mal didn't say anything, just grabbed Ricky roughly by the arm and began dragging him back in the direction of the ship. He didn't stop once as Ricky stumbled behind him or as Inara jogged to keep up. Back to the ship. Away from prying eyes and fucking perverts. The others started asking questions the second he walked into the hanger, but he paid them no heed as he threw Ricky against the wall and held him there. "What…the…hell…do you think you were doin'?!"

Ricky tried to hold Mal's gaze for a moment, but fell under the glare, and looked away. "Working."

"Mal, what the hell?" Jayne asked.

"Captain, you're hurting him!" Kaylee shouted.

"The doc can patch him up real good later," Mal said, never taking his eyes off of Ricky. "He's gonna wanna check for internal injuries. Tell me, how was it?"

"I-"

"How long have you been doing this?"

"Started when I was twelve-"

Inara gasped, hands covering her mouth. "Oh, God."

"-till I was fourteen. Ended up somewhere else for while. They had a…less respectful use for me." He shook his head. "Came back when I was seventeen. Been doin' it since."

"That's where you've been goin'," Mal said, "Every time we dock and you go off, that's what you're doin'."

"It's work."

"Work, my gorram ass."

"Told you he was gonna find out," River said as she came up beside both of them. Mal didn't release Ricky from his place against the wall, but she didn't seem to care. "Secret's out. Everyone knows now. No more hide and seek."

"How'd she find out? Anyone else here know and not tell me?" Mal shouted.

"She just knew," Ricky said, groaning as his spine pressed into the metal more, "She just knew. I begged her not to tell you. Thought this was how you'd react."

"Ever plan to tell me? Any of us?"

"No."

"You put this crew at risk. Anyone could have followed you back, found the good doctor and his sister. The stuff on this ship, quite a few Alliance people'd just love to get their hands on this cargo or the doc and his sister. Our asses would go right in jail. And yet you go out every time we dock. Are all of them with the Alliance? All of them Generals? Do you actually have a standard?"

"Mal, stop it," Inara said.

"No. He's listening. Realize now? Realize the danger you're puttin' this crew in?"

"I-"

"You're a whore."

"W-what?"

Eyes and heads whipped to the opening of the hanger and to Wash and Zoë's companions. Ricky's eyes widened and he froze.

"Amy."

TBC

**Translations:**

- Mei-mei: Little sister

- Jien tah-duh gway: Like hell

- Hwoon dahn: Son of a bitch

PLEASE REVIEW!


	4. Chapter 4

Another chapter! Just two left! Hope you're all liking! As always, reviews are love (and crack)!

Disclaimer: Neither Secret Life of the American Teenager nor Firefly belong to me.

**Note:** As in Chapter One, the Chinese has been found on the same sites (and will continue to be so throughout the story).

He's Just A Child  
Chapter Four

"Dada!"

Ricky froze, eyes falling from Amy's gaze and to the smiling face of the little boy in her arms.

John.

He didn't breathe, didn't blink, as if in a fear that they'd disappear if he did. His eyes watered, whether from emotion or strain, he didn't know. Didn't care.

"Dada!"

That tiny hand started to wave frantically and Ricky's legs collapsed under him, his shirt slipping from Mal's suddenly lax grip. He hit the floor of the hanger hard, knees crashing onto the metal grate. It should hurt. A lot. But in that moment, he didn't feel it. Later, he would, but not now.

Amy gasped, taking a step toward him before she stopped. She waited a second before she moved again, in as much of a run as she could manage with John in her arms. He'd gotten so big. She set John down in front of her, sitting on her haunches as she stared at him. "You're..." she trailed off and just stared at him.

He smiled weakly, still afraid that she and John were going to disappear at any moment. "Hi."

She hugged him, dove around John and hugged him, kneeling on the floor in a pair of whitewash cut-offs that did nothing to protect her knees from the old metal. Her hair swung out, fanning out over his left shoulder. It had gotten a lot longer. Ricky tried not to notice that she'd changed from the perfume she used to wear. He thought he heard her let out a sob, as she leaned in towards his ear. "You said you'd see me at school."

"Sorry," he whispered back, hugging her with one arm while his other held John.

His family.

They were here. He didn't think he'd ever see them a-

They'd heard what Mal said.

Ricky pushed away from Amy, pale and wide-eyed. He looked away from her and shook his head, scrambling to his feet. This wasn't happening. They weren't here. It was just a dream, just another dream. Just another gorram dream.

Amy's hand reached out to brush his arm and he jerked away, spinning away from her and then Mal's reach. He caught River's gaze, mid-spin and cast her a desperate glance as he ran for the entrance of the hanger. He flew past the crew and his hallucinations, right out of the ship and onto land.

He didn't stop running, not for the shouts from everyone inside, Mal's shout, or for the sound of a body hitting the floor. He heard Mal curse at River, but he didn't look back.

He just ran.

---

His feet slowed to an exhausted stop in town, too tired to take him any further. He sank against the side of a building, chest heaving as sweat beaded on his forehead.

Mal was going to kill him; for putting the crew in danger, for his job, for running off and holding them up.

He let out a shuddering breath, cool air hitting the sweat on his face. It sent a chill through his body and he pushed off of the building, stepping towards the entrance of the street. He made it only a couple steps before a hand fell over his shoulder and made him jump. He spun around, expecting to see Mal, River, someone from the ship. Not an inebriated Commander Williams; one of his old clients.

Crap.

This really wasn't the time.

He stopped breathing as Williams pressed in close to him, trying to get away from the smell of the alcohol. It radiated off the middle-aged, graying man, coloring his face a cherry red.

He pushed Ricky against the building, one leg forcing itself between Ricky's. "Haven't seen you in a while, boy. Couldn't set up a damn appointment."

Ricky wanted to tell him it's because Williams was a sick fuck that wasn't suitable for any Companion. He'd had the man black marked on every Companion's registry. He wouldn't be able to make an appointment with anyone.

"Commander Williams," he said, trying to sound as polite as he could, despite the urge to gag at the smell, "I'm afraid this isn't a good time. I have another engagement I have to attend."

"S'gonna have to wait. Got plans for you."

Lips attached to his neck and Ricky's eyes shot to the sky before pressing shut. Oh, God. This guy was double his size. Just like Bob Underwood had been. He bit his lip as he felt a rough hand shove past the waistband of his pants.

He couldn't stop him. Just like he could never stop Bob.

He felt like a whore.

Tears gathered behind his lids, forcing their way through the clenched slits to wet his lashes.

Then he was gone and he was sliding to the ground. He thought he heard the fabric of his pants tear as Williams was torn away, but he didn't think of it much as he peeked his eyes open. There was Williams, held against the building across from him, fingers wrapped around his neck.

Mal's fingers.

Arms wrapped around him and he tensed for a second before he recognized the sound of River's soft words in his ear.

"All gone," she said, "He's sleeping now."

Ricky looked over her shoulder, watching as Mal dropped a bloodied and unconscious Williams to the ground before kneeling down beside him. He flinched away as Mal reached out a hand.

"You okay?"

Ricky nodded, letting River hold him as he squinted his eyes open to peer at Mal.

Mal sighed as he kneeled beside them, pulling off his jacket to lay it over Ricky's shoulders. "Let's get on back to the ship."

Ricky nodded, letting Mal and River pull him to his feet. River stayed on his left arm, her hold secure as he steadied himself. She smiled at him, teeth peeking out from behind her upturned lips.

She kept smiling, not even flickering as she made a high kick behind her. Her booted foot connected with flesh and Ricky's eyes snapped behind him in time to see Williams crumple back to the ground, gasping around what Ricky knew was a crushed windpipe. The smile fell away as she glared at Williams, her grip on Ricky becoming protective.

**"**_Bèn tiānshēng de yìduī ròu_**," she almost growled at the gasping William, "No more hurting **_xiăo dì dì_."

The girl was crazy, completely off her rocker, and more than a bit dangerous.

But she cared about him.

---

"He's just a kid," Wash said, still in shock as they all sat, gathered around the table in the mess. Book and Inara passed were silent as they passed mugs of tea around to the crew and Amy.

"Never saw anythin' on those exams o' yours, Doc?"

Simon shook his head at Jayne's question. "I've never had a reason to examine him."

"It don't make sense," Kaylee said, "He don't seem like a Companion, don't act like one."

"You say you're from the past?" Inara asked, sitting across from Amy, and taking a sip of her tea.

"Yeah," Amy replied, bouncing John on her lap. She kissed his temple, whispering into his ear as he whined and whimpered for his father. "Sh," she murmured, "Daddy's coming back. Mommy's here."

Inara smiled at Amy gently, eyes soft as she stared at the red-faced little baby; _Ricky's_ red-faced little baby. She returned her gaze to Amy, speaking gently, "In your time, a Companion is nothing more than a whore, but here, it's a legitimate profession. A Companion is registered by the government, examined annually, we carry a license, and we're trained. There are whores that are like the ones from your time, but there's a difference."

"And you checked with the registry?" Zoë asked.

Inara nodded. "He never gave us his last name, but the picture I found is of him. He's from Ariel, son of a single mom, and no known father. She disappeared when he was barely ten. Records showed that he'd been on his own until he was taken in by the Guild."

"But _ten_?" Kaylee stressed. "Do they take in kids that young?"

"Companions are trained younger in a core planet, but not usually until they're at least twelve," Inara explained, "It doesn't make sense, though. Companions come from well-rounded educations and years of studies of the arts, religion, physical discipline. Ricky's records...they don't meet the requirements. For the Guild to have taken him in..."

"Sick bastards," Jayne sneered in disgust, "I'm all for sexin', but some of them people that pay for Companions...there ain't no reason to take a kid that young 'cept for the perverts."

Inara looked down. She didn't have an answer for why Ricky was trained so young. She didn't understand it herself.

It made sense in hindsight, though. He carried himself with a grace that she should have recognized as a Companion's. He'd just seemed so young. She'd never expected.

"River knew," Simon sighed, "and she didn't say anything."

"Maybe she thought she was helpin'. He said he'd begged her not to tell," Kaylee suggested.

"River's the one that tripped that other guy before they ran after Ricky?" Amy asked.

Wash nodded. "Thought Mal was gonna kill her for trippin' him," he chuckled, amused by something despite the topic of conversation.

Amy sighed, holding John to her chest as she stood. "I just...I need air," she said before walked out of the kitchen...they'd called it mess, right. She walked the unfamiliar halls, working back in the direction they came. She sighed as she entered the hanger, feeling so much less trapped than she'd felt in there.

She sank onto a crate, eyes watching the empty entrance. Ricky wasn't anywhere and neither were...Mal and River. Right.

Tears pricked at her eyes and her grip on John tightened as she hid her face in his hair. She breathed in shaky breaths, trying hold in the sobs as well as the terrified nausea.

2517. She and John were in the year 2517. Three hours ago, she'd been in her backyard and it had been 2010. Ashley had been with Griffin inside, watching a movie while they didn't work on homework. Her parents had been with Robbie out front, talking about the upcoming wedding.

Now she was here.

Her breaths turned into gasps. She could hear John's voice, innocent and confused as he chanted _Mama_ and his tiny hand kept tapping her arm, but she couldn't move. Her grip on him stayed tight and she finally began to sob, shoulders rising and falling as the tears finally came past her eyes.

She was in 2517 and her family was in 2010.

She was never going to see them again.

Ricky had been gone for over a year without any chance of coming back and now she was...she was never going home.

Their names slipped past her lips—Ashley, Robbie, Mom, Daddy—as tears dripped off her lips and into her mouth. John began to whimper in her arms before erupting into wails, confused at his mother's anguish. Mommy wasn't supposed to cry, it made him sad.

Arms wrapped around her and she fell into the embrace, recognizing Ricky's scent under the new smells on his clothes. It was still there, that scent of evergreen that was just so completely Ricky. She'd searched for months after he disappeared, looking for a perfume that had the scent, but she'd never found the right combination. It was just Ricky.

She heard his voice whispering to her as he held her, held John, but she couldn't understand it over the sound of her heart pounding in her head. Her eyes blinked open, vision blurry behind the tears as she looked over his shoulder. The others were standing behind them, Inara leaning into Mal as she whispered to him, probably telling him what she'd found. Everyone else was quiet as they let her little family cry.

John finally settled down as she did, sniffling as he reached for his father. Ricky took him into his arms, sitting him on his lap as one arm stayed around her.

"I'm sorry," he whispered. Even now, Amy didn't know what he was apologizing for. After today, there were too many possibilities. She didn't say anything to that, just laid her head tiredly on his shoulder as she looked up at him, blinking wet lashes.

He looked the same. His hair was a bit longer and a little tamer than it had been back home. His clothes were well worn, but no less impressive. The long sleeved button-up was done up except for the top four buttons, made of a green that she absently thought looked like the same shade as her eyes. The pants were black, form fitting and bottoms stuffed into a pair of new black boots.

"Bob Underwood isn't your dad."

The words were out of her mouth before she could stop them and she froze as he did, suddenly terrified that he was going to run again and this time not come back, that she and John would be alone here.

Ricky didn't relax. His eyes stayed apprehensive and she could tell he was ready to run if things went south. He shook his head slightly in a negative response to her question.

"Then why stay there and let him..." She didn't finish the sentence. He knew what she was asking.

"I didn't have anywhere else," he said, and for a second, she saw that same honest Ricky she knew from band camp.

Tears pricked at her eyes again, this time sympathetic as her hand sought out his, squeezing gently and holding on. "You didn't deserve it," she whispered, "What he did-"

"I know." He sighed softly, eyes turning upward as his voice softened into a whisper. "I was nothing more than his whore."

"Like now?"

Ricky tore away from her at that, putting John on her lap and moving towards Mal before she realized he'd moved. "I'm a _Companion_! Say it with me!"

"You lie down for your clients," Mal said, face controlled, but Ricky could see the anger in his voice.

"Mal-"

"I work," Ricky said, cutting Inara off and speaking in a deadly calm. "I work for a living and my job is legal. My job is none of your business."

"It is when it puts my crew at risk," Mal countered.

Ricky bit his lip for a moment and nodded. "Then maybe my time here is over."

"No!" Kaylee shouted, stepping forward. She spun back as Simon put a hand on her arm before spinning back. "Captain, you can't let him leave!"

"It's his choice."

"Mal," Inara said, "I'm not okay with what the Guild's done either-"

"He was 10!"

"And he's 18 now," Inara reminded him with a touch of sadness, "Mal, he's been on his own for a long time."

"And look at the good that's done him," Mal snorted.

"I didn't have a choice!" Ricky snapped. "My mom left! I was on the streets until the Guild-"

"-Turned you into a whore."

"Stop calling me that! I'm not a-" Ricky stopped as John erupted into tears, no doubt picking up on the anger around him. He turned back to his son and Amy, lifting him into his arms as he bounced him. "It's okay, little fella. It's okay." He turned his eyes back to Mal. "Don't judge me for making a living," he said softly, almost pleading Mal to not shout and upset John more.

Mal caught the plead and his eyes fell on John for a minute before rising back up to meet Ricky's gaze. "What about him?" he asked, gesturing to John.

"He's my son," Ricky said, as if it explained everything, "I'm providing for him."

"You're a kid."

"They thought I was old enough."

That truth alone made everyone sick.

"You ain't gotta leave," Kaylee said, looking sad. She liked Ricky. He was like family and she didn't want to lose him. If he left, chances were they'd never see him again. The 'verse was much too big for chance encounters.

"I don't seem to be welcome here, _xin gan_," Ricky said.

"Captain!" Kaylee cried, "Please! He ain't caused no trouble before. We run the same risk with Inara," she paused long enough to send Inara a glance, saying that she meant nothing by it, "and nothing bad's happened with her."

"Inara has her own shuttle. They follow her back, they gotta do it in the sky. Ricky here walks right back to the ship," Mal said, eyes still glancing down at John as the baby began to quiet. His eyes moved to the still terrified Amy and he sighed. He wasn't going to toss those two out, not when the girl had no idea about this place. Inara had explained enough of her story to him and he knew she wouldn't stand a chance out there on her own, even if Ricky followed her. They had nowhere to go. A Guild House wouldn't take in that baggage.

Mal sighed again, silently telling himself that he was getting soft. "If he stays, he ain't gonna keep up with this."

"And how would I provide for them?" Ricky asked, jerking his head towards Amy as he continued to bounce John.

Mal looked back at Zoë, nodding once before he turned back to Ricky. "You help with the jobs."

"Yours? They ain't exactly legal, Captain. What good am I gonna be to them if I get busted or killed?"

"You'll have a crew behind you. You won't be alone."

Ricky paused at that, wondering how Mal went from screaming at him to acting almost gently. He was offering him a place. He was offering him, Amy, and John a place. He opened his mouth to speak, but closed it as River glided over.

She came in between him and Mal, looking at him with a smile. "Listen to Daddy, Little Mal. He'll take care of you. Couldn't before. Didn't know. He's here now."

"The hell is she talkin' 'bout?" Jayne asked as she smiled at them once more and glided back to her brother's side.

Neither Mal nor Ricky answered him, wide eyes staring at each other as if _really_ seeing each other for the first time. They didn't move, didn't breathe, just stared, looking at every similarity and difference.

"_Hwoon dahn_."

TBC

**Translations:**

- Bèn tiānshēng de yìduī ròu: Stupid, inbred sack of meat

- Xiăo dì dì: Little brother [familiar, can be used with non-blood relations]

- Hwoon dahn: Son of a bitch

PLEASE REVIEW!


	5. Chapter 5

New chapter! Only the epilogue is left after this. Hope you've liked so far and continue to do so for the final two parts. As always, reviews are love (and crack).

Disclaimer: Neither Secret Life of the American Teenager nor Firefly belong to me.

**Note:** As in Chapter One, the Chinese has been found on the same sites (and will continue to be so throughout the story).

He's Just A Child  
Chapter Five

The ship had been eerily silent for hours. They'd taken to the sky a while ago, under a single order from Mal to head out towards their next job. The only sounds in the halls were of the engine humming, a white noise as thoughts ran through everyone's heads.

Wash piloted the ship, Zoë on his right with her hand on his shoulder as they stared out at the inky black before them.

Jayne sat in his room, sharpening his knives and cleaning Vera—Ricky appreciated the gun, said it had some fine craftsmanship—just for something to do.

Kaylee and Inara sat in Inara's shuttle, sipping at tea that had long since grown cold and less than pleasing. They grimaced with each sip, but continued on, filling their mouths to keep from speaking. They didn't know what to say.

Book sat in his room, bible open as he read from it, searching for an explanation in the pages that he'd lived by for years. He didn't find one and wondered for a moment if River had been right when she said the book was wrong.

Simon and Mal stood in the doorway of Ricky's room, only doors away from Book, just watching Ricky sleep and River sit beside him. She'd taken Amy's place a couple hours ago, back when John started crying and hadn't given it back. She sat at his head, fingers carding through his hair.

Amy sat in a chair across from the bed, a sleepy John in her lap. She rocked him to sleep, kissing his forehead as she stood. She smiled gently at River, still a bit unnerved by her, but pushed the uneasiness away as she met Mal's eyes and nodded towards the hallway. He gave her a curt nod in return and she followed him out with one last look at Ricky.

He led her through the halls and she followed quietly, trying to memorize the routes as he finally stopped by what looked like an infirmary. There was a couch outside and he motioned for her to sit, sitting beside her once she was settled.

They sat in silence for a while longer, both wondering where to start. There were so many questions that needed answers, but neither knew which to ask first.

"We ain't got any cribs on board."

The statement was simple when it finally broke the silence, but Amy began to laugh. She tried to stay quiet in an effort to not wake John, but it started to sneak past her lips. Mal took John from her arms hesitantly, letting her giggle at the absurdness of it all. The giggles turned into a silent sob as the amusement died away and she remembered that although she was on a spaceship of all things, she was hundreds of years from home. She didn't let herself cry long, knowing that if she let herself fall apart, she may not be able to get herself back together.

She got her breathing back under control, straightening back up and freezing at the sight of John nestled in Mal's arms. That look he was giving her son was the same one that she remembered Ricky giving him the day John was born; completely terrified, but in awe at the same time.

"He's your grandson," she said softly, knowing she was treading on thin ice.

Mal nodded slowly, still looking at John, wide-eyed. "How old is he?"

"Two years," she replied, "I was fifteen. Ricky was sixteen."

It still felt unreal to Mal as he sat there, this child in his arms, his _grandson_. Yesterday, he hadn't even had a kid. Now, he was a grandfather. His head was spinning.

He'd dragged Inara back to her records the second he could, telling her to bring up every part of Ricky's files. His heart fell into his stomach when he saw the name listed as Ricky's mother.

Skye Harper.

God, he remembered her. They'd been together since they were kids, best friends turned into lovers. Back then, he'd thought she was it, but things changed and people changed. He remembered their last argument, screaming and yelling until they'd finally admitted that they'd lost it. They'd walked away. He went one way and she went the other. He'd never heard from her again, never had any idea that she'd been pregnant.

Amy shook her head. "All this time and I never...I never would have thought that he was from the future. That's something for fiction, but...here we are. I keep thinking I'm going to wake up and be back in my bed. We're never going home, are we?"

"I have no idea," Mal said honestly. He didn't even understand how something like this was possible; much less have an idea of if this girl was ever going to see her family again. "And his...adoptive parents?"

"He was in foster care," she said. "I don't know if you've got that here, but...the people that took him in when he...I guess, first got there, the people I thought were his parents...they weren't fit; drug addicts. He never talked much about his adoptive mom, mentioned it in passing once that she was still on the streets. I always figured she was a-"

"-Whore."

Amy nodded. "His...Bob Underwood...he was in jail when I met Ricky. He got out when I was pregnant, came around a bit, but he got caught with drugs and sent back to prison."

"The first time he was in jail...what for?" Mal asked, eyes closed as he waited for the answer. He didn't want to know, didn't want her to say it and confirm what his mind was telling him.

The words _sexual abuse_ were whispered, but they sounded like screams in Mal's head and he cursed in Chinese. He handed John back to Amy and stood, pacing for a minute while he muttered until he stopped, pulled back, and slammed his closed fist into the metallic wall. The sound echoed across the ship and Amy rushed to rock John back to sleep as the sound startled him.

_"I was nothing more than his whore."_

No part of him wanted to think about how far that abuse might have went.

He wanted to hit the wall again, just for good measure, but he held himself back, shoved his hands into his pockets, ignoring the throbbing pain in one as he began to pace again.

"His foster parents, the ones I met, they were good people," Amy said, taking him away from the images his mind created. "They loved him. When he disappeared and everyone thought he'd just walked out, they defended him. I stopped hearing from them after a while, I think it was just painful for them. They stopped by to see John on Christmas, but we never talked about Ricky."

Mal nodded, comforted that there were some people out there that had looked out for him, loved him. He looked at Amy, letting himself really take a look at the girl in front of him. Long brown hair swept up into a ponytail that had been put up and undone more than once that day. Half was hanging in her face as it was, but she was smiling despite the fear and the mess. Light shorts clung to her thighs, leaving her legs bare until the pair of boots that had been ruined by the dirt and dust. The shirt was a blue plaid, much looser than her pants. One trip into the engine room and they'd be ruined. He doubted the boots could be saved as it was. She looked about Kaylee's size, though, maybe River's. They'd find clothes for her.

John, they'd have to work with until they hit ground again and had enough time to shop. They'd need supplies. It scared him, the thought of having a baby on board, to raise a boy in what they did, but they didn't have much choice. John was curled in his mother's arms, fast asleep in his little red pajamas. He looked like his mom, but he had Ricky's eyes.

"How long has he been here?"

"Five months. Took passage with us and never left. Didn't mind much. He's quiet and the crew likes him."

"Kaylee seems to," Amy noted.

Mal nodded. "Kaylee likes everyone. Probably the happiest girl in the 'verse. Ain't nothing gonna kill that smile. Anything that manages to ain't gonna like the consequences."

Amy smiled at his protectiveness of Kaylee, sure that it extended to the rest of his crew. She hoped that one day, maybe even she and John would be included in that.

"And the," she paused, "Chinese, was it?"

"Mandarin," he specified. "Story goes that when Earth That Was went to hell, two world powers that survived were the U.S. and China. New planets got terra-formed for us to live on and the cultures blended."

They spoke for a while longer as Mal explained this time to her. He taught her a couple phrases, but she knew her accent was horrible. He told her it would fade in time. She just hoped it was soon.

John woke up, squirming and calling for his father seconds before Ricky came around the corner. River and Simon were on either side of him, but he sped his walk when he heard John, taking him into his arms the second he could.

"Dada!" John squealed. "Mi' you."

Tears sprang to his eyes and he kissed John's head. "Missed you, too."

Amy smiled up at him, standing and coughing in an effort to clear her throat. "_Zăo àn_," she said, blushing slightly.

Ricky chuckled in disbelief for a moment. "_Zăo àn_," he returned before looking towards Mal, "Did you teach her that?" He looked back at her after catching Mal's nod. "You'll learn fast."

"The accent is bad," she said shyly.

"We'll work on it. You had the pronunciation down. That's the first step."

Amy nodded, looking towards the med bay and spotting Simon inside with River. "I should probably check that John's okay after our trip."

Ricky shifted, uncomfortable now that it was just him and Mal. He didn't know what to say to the Captain. Hours before, they'd been ready to kill each other. Now, he was his father. He hadn't had a father except for Sanjay and even then he hadn't ever admitted it. He knew Sanjay had known how he felt, but especially now, he wished he'd really said it to him and Margret. They deserved a lot more than him dropping off the face of the earth.

God, he missed them.

He blinked, forcing the memories of the home they'd given him back for the time being. He wasn't going to cry in front of Mal, not again. He cleared his throat a couple times, thinking of Amy's nervousness minutes before. "I..._xièxie nĭ_. For what you did with Williams...thank you. I don't think I could have...I wouldn't have been able to stop him."

"You're..." he stopped, pausing for a moment, "family."

It was still an alien concept to them and they both knew that Mal had been on his way to call him crew, but both words were comforting to Ricky; they said he had a place here.

They both knew that they weren't ready for 'Mal' to become 'Dad'. It was too soon, too new, and the wounds from before were still smarting. Those words needed time to be erased and they weren't going to rush this. Mal hadn't been a father before (as far as Ricky knew) and Ricky was scared of the term.

They just needed time. One step at a time.

He glanced towards the med bay, watching as Simon examined John. His son looked confused, clearly not recognizing the man in front of him. He didn't cry, though he did shy away from the touch at first.

Ricky's brow furrowed at that, as confused as his son for a moment. John was only seven months when he was taken back here. How did he remember him? There was no way...

Amy met his gaze, smiling teeth flashing as they bit at one side of her bottom lip.

It was her. He knew it. She'd made sure John didn't forget him. He didn't know how she'd done it, but she did.

He could kiss her.

A voice in the back of his mind said he wanted to.

He told the voice to shut up.

TBC

**Translations:**

- Zăo àn: Good morning

- Xièxie nĭ: Thank you

PLEASE REVIEW!


	6. Epilogue

Hello again! Okay, so I tried to post this chapter days ago, but FFN wasn't letting me or a few of my friends upload any fics. Nothing would load up on the Document Manager. Well, better late than never, right? Thank you to everyone that's read and reviewed. Reviews are amazing. Hope you like this final chapter, and as always, reviews are love (and crack).

Disclaimer: I don't own either The Secret Life Of The American Teenager nor Firefly. I'm not making a profit off this fic.

Note: Once again, the Chinese in this chapter are accessed from the same sites as stated earlier in the fic.

He's Just A Child  
Epilogue

**_Two Years Later_**

Amy's boots hit the grated floors hard as she jogged across the ship, sweeping her almost butt-length hair back into a messy ponytail. It didn't stay tight, falling with each bounce of her body until it sagged against the base of her skull loosely, dropping strands from the elastic every second.

She jerked to a stop, leaning over the railing that overlooked the hanger as she watched Ricky and River chase a now four-year-old John between the crates. What remained of her ponytail spilled over her shoulders, long bangs hanging in her face as she pushed them back behind her ear.

"Who woulda thought," Mal mused, stepping up beside her as he watched the fun being had below. "The two of you comin' here...some sorta crazy magic that did it."

Amy nodded silently, memory flashing as she remembered the fear she'd felt when she woke up on the dusty ground and saw her son in a stranger's arms. She bit the corner of a lip as she remembered her body completely freezing when she saw Ricky for the first time in over a year.

"Daddy!" John squealed as Ricky grabbed him around his middle and lifted him into the air. He wrapped his arms around his father's neck, laughing as Ricky let him hang. He shouted as Ricky spun them around. "Slipping, Daddy!"

"Don't worry, _niánqīng de_. Always safe in Daddy's arms," River said, gliding around them as she met Ricky's eyes. "Always safe now. You are yours and he is his." She smiled at them both, looking up and meeting Amy's eyes for less than a second before she turned and began to dance in dizzying spins across the floor.

John giggled. "She's funny." He looked up at his father with pleading eyes. "Can we keep playing?"

Ricky lowered John to the ground, pointing up at Amy and Mal. "I need to talk to Mommy," he said.

"But-"

"-But," Ricky grinned, "I think you could get Gramps to play."

John gasped, excited at the idea as he ran from his father's side and to the bottom of the stairs. "Gramps! Come play!" he shouted up, bouncing in place.

Amy smiled, nudging Mal slightly. "Duty calls," she said as her eyes turned back to Ricky. Her smile grew a bit sad as she remembered—as she always did—that her own father didn't get to run around and play with his grandson like Mal was doing now. Her family wouldn't get this chance to watch her and John grow. She smiled halfheartedly at Ricky, leaning into his chest as she heard his own whispered apology.

They both knew it wasn't his fault, that he had nothing to do with this, but she knew he understood. He missed everyone, too. He had been sent here with his old wallet crammed in his pocket. She hadn't. That big purse she'd carried with her every time she left the house, the one with all the memories she'd saved for Ricky, it had been sitting in her bedroom when she and John were taken. She didn't have any pictures of her family and sometimes she really feared that one day she'd forget what they looked like. The thought terrified her, thinking of losing her mother's smile, her father's voice, Ashley's sarcastic tone, Robbie's babyish giggle.

The transition here hadn't been easy and all those tears that she'd wanted to cry, she hadn't been able to, not until she was in her room and could hide her face in a pillow. She'd been tossed into this place without a clue of what was going on around her. The social cues, the ways of speech, the guns, the _Chinese in the middle of a sentence_, it had been a lot to take in and more than a bit daunting every time she heard one of the crew go off in Chinese and forget that she didn't understand.

The Chinese was difficult, but she picked it up as quickly as she could. She needed to know it to get around this place. Her best lessons had been standing inside a doorway, listening to Ricky speak to John, first in English, then repeating it in Chinese. She'd stand there, just out of his line of sight, lips forming each word, her voice not even loud enough to be a whisper, worried that if Ricky heard her, he'd stop.

He caught her after the first week and had her sit in. As time went on, he'd challenge her, saying his first line in English before telling her to repeat it in Chinese. It had become a habit for the whole crew, a bit of a game as they taught her what they'd known since birth.

"You miss 'em."

Amy nodded. "Doesn't really get easier, does it? Even after all this time."

"Not really."

Amy sighed, closing her eyes as she breathed in that scent of evergreen.

_"What happened after I left?"_

_Amy looked up from where she'd laid John in his new crib, nodding towards the hallway. She slipped into the hallway, leaving the door open a crack as she and Ricky sat on the stairs._

_"Amy?" he asked, when she didn't speak right away. He sighed, lowering his eyes to the ground. "They thought I left you and John."_

_"What they thought didn't matter. I knew you wouldn't just walk away," she said, placing a hand on his arm. "Ashley knew, too."_

_He nodded, staying silent for a few minutes until he spoke again. "What happened with everyone?"_

_"My parents are getting married again. Or...I guess were considering what year we're in, huh?" She and Ricky chuckled a bit. "Robbie was just a baby. He just kept growing. Ashley's seeing this guy, Mark. You remember him?" _

_Ricky nodded._

_"They'd been together three months when John and I..." She shook her head, inhaling slowly. "She and Griffin are still close, best friends." She bit her lip, thinking. "Ben and I never got back together after Maria. They didn't last. He and Grace ended up together about a month after you disappeared."_

_"Ben and Grace?" Ricky asked, incredulous._

_Amy laughed. "It shocked a lot of us, but they're good. She and Jack never...he was with Madison for a little while, but that didn't last either. He was single when this...Adrian was upset for a while after you...but this old friend of hers came back, Antonio. She was...she was happy, really happy."_

_Ricky smiled at that, happy that Adrian had found what she'd wanted and what he'd never been able to give her. He knew what Antonio had meant to her._

_He paused in his thoughts, sending Amy a curious glance. "What about..."_

_"They didn't talk about it, but they never gave up on you," she said, putting a hand over his. "They came to see John, not much, but they came on Christmas. Stay for a couple hours to give him a couple presents. They loved you. It was hard for them."_

_Ricky nodded._

_Amy didn't say anything about the tears in his eyes._

"A lot's changed," she said, looking down and watching as John jumped onto Mal's back. "They look happy."

"Yeah."

"You have, too."

_"You've almost got it. Just remember to add that—yeah, right there."_

_Amy sighed gratefully as she finished the last sheet that Ricky and the crew had prepared for her. She may have been learning Chinese okay, but she was still illiterate when it came to reading and writing the language. She had the words, but the letters and symbols were more difficult with their intricate styling._

_"Not bad."_

_"Not bad?" Amy laughed, "One mistake today. I think that's better than 'not bad.'"_

_Ricky grinned. "Maybe. You'll just have to keep it up."_

_Amy crinkled her nose at Ricky, wanting to stick her tongue out, but thinking it was too childish. She shook her head, looking at the sheet once more and its mess of Chinese lettering. A year ago and she would have never understood a word this meant, but now, she didn't have a choice. She had to know this, both to operate here and to give John an example he could learn from._

_Just like Ricky._

_"You're really not taking clients anymore?" she asked, voice soft and hesitant. Ricky's occupation as a Companion was a tense subject all around the ship, but she had to ask even if it was to just confirm her suspicions._

_Ricky nodded. "I'll stay registered, but I won't be taking clients."_

_"Then why stay registered?"_

_"Having a registered Companion on board is a good thing to have sometimes. Inara won't always be here when we need her and I'll have better access to some things than the crew would have otherwise."_

_Amy nodded, drawing her bottom lip in between her teeth. She released her lip as she leaned forward and kissed him. It was soft and completely innocent, so much like their first kiss back at band camp. It seemed like a lifetime ago._

_Ricky's eyes were wide when she pulled back and she blushed, but met his eyes with a confidence she didn't used to have._

_"I'm glad," she whispered, blushing more as she heard the breathless, husky tone she hadn't intended. "I don't want to share you."_

Amy turned away from the railing, leaning back against it as Ricky stepped in close to her. She watched him, taking in the hair that he'd let Inara cut the day before, back down to the length it had been when they were back in her world. Twenty years old and he still had that sparkle in his eye when he looked at her. She tried to pretend that it didn't make her melt, but as he stepped close and their bodies molded together, she knew it was pointless.

Their kiss was heated, passionate, something that would have been uncomfortable and awkward with anyone but him. She heard herself let out a tiny moan as his fingers tangled in her hair, shivering as his hands threaded down and along her back. Her hair tie fell to the floor and probably through the grated bottom, but she didn't care.

They were both breathless when they separated, foreheads touching as their eyes remained locked. She stared up into his eyes, not the blue eyes of his father, but the brown of a mother that she knew never deserved him.

"_Mà mà! Bà bà!"_

Their gazes turned and looked down to their son, waving back as he did.

Mal put a hand on John's shoulder, waving them off with the other. "That ain't somethin' I got a desire to see. Move it to your bunk." He smiled, nodding at Amy. "Two o' you got somethin' to celebrate as it is. I got the kid."

"Yes, Dad," Ricky said, rolling his eyes.

It made her smile that he was able to finally call Mal that, even if it was said with sarcasm. It was progress. She couldn't ask for more, not when she knew Ricky and knew how hard it was for him to accept people into his life when he's been so used to being alone.

She mouthed _thank you_ to Mal, breath stopping for a second as Ricky took her left hand and kissed the ring he'd presented her with the night before. It was beautiful, a simple band, but beautiful nonetheless. Shiny diamonds and the like would have been impractical in their line of work and bands were something that Wash and Zoë hadn't even exchanged.

He'd done that for her, gotten down on one knee and presented her with a ring as if they were still back in the early twenty-first century.

She hadn't even been able to say _yes_, she'd been crying so much, just nodded and pulled him in for a kiss while the others eavesdropped.

Her parents would have thought she was insane, not just because she was still only nineteen, but because it was Ricky Underwood.

They wouldn't have understood that in this life, especially theirs, they had to live in the moment.

_"Here, you could be there one day and gone the next. I don't want to lose another day, not when I've already lost years. I want you by my side, from this end of the verse to the next. Amy Juergens, will you marry me?"_

She was marrying Ricky Reynolds—and, God, had Mal tried to hide how happy he was when Ricky took his name last year—that night. Sometimes it really paid to have a Shepherd on board.

They weren't going to have that big wedding with the princess gown she'd dreamed of since she was six. That would have been sweet, but the longer she lived here, the longer she realized that she'd been living in a fairy world then. All she needed was Ricky, John, and the crew. She wished she had her family, that her dad could walk her down the tiny aisle the girls were making in the bridge. She knew Wash must have been having a hard time, piloting the ship as they moved around him, but she loved him for doing it.

To be married amongst the stars. It was romance of a new age.

Ricky's hands reached her hips, lifting her off the floor, and her legs wrapped around his waist as they got caught in another kiss. Her body felt hot, heart hammering as if it were going to burst right through her chest and the gray top she'd bought a few stops back. She could feel Ricky against her, could feel his own heart beating fast against her breast as her fingers clenched the red fabric of his button-up.

Mal's shouted reminder that their son was in viewing distance pulled them apart and Ricky lowered her to the floor as they both flushed.

She kissed him once more, quickly this time, and moved away from him. "Gotta catch me," she almost purred, giving him that sexy smirk she knew he loved. She stepped back, winking once before she was off, running through the halls of the ship with him hot on her tail.

He caught her just as she reached their bunk, pushing her up against the wall as he kissed her neck. Her head tilted up, eyelids fluttering.

They made their way down the ladder and into the room Mal had moved them into, going straight for their bed. She fell back onto it first, breath coming in short gasps as Ricky climbed on top of her, and she held his face for a second before her fingers caressed the soft skin. His hand took her left away from his face, fingers intertwining as her ring shone in the dim lighting.

"_Wŏ ài nĭ_, Ricky," she whispered, "_Wŏ ài nĭ_."

The End

**Translations:**

- Niánqīng de: Young one

- Mà mà: Mommy

- Bà bà: Daddy

- Wŏ ài nĭ: I love you

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